


Dandelions

by LenaBrightRose



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Child Abuse, Fluff, Homelessness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Parenthood, References to Depression, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, dont worry i won't hit you with all these at once
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-02-17 23:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaBrightRose/pseuds/LenaBrightRose
Summary: Soulmate-AU where any marks left on your skin show up on your soulmates.Yuri Plisetsky has lived his life with bruises that weren't his own littering his body. Ever since he was a baby there was little his parents could do to track down his soulmate and save them from the abuse they seemed to suffer, and Yuri learned to numb himself to the pain, but when the bruises and marks all fade away one day, Yuri is left with the undeniable truth that his soulmate might very well be dead. Life rarely seems like it will go on, but it does, and when Yuri meets Otabek Altin, a boy he would very much like to punch in the teeth, he finds that he might just rediscover the life that he thought he'd lost... if his pride will let him.





	1. Love Leaves a Mark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my plebs! Just PSA, italics are flashback, normal text is present! Enjoy! Also, I've been doing a lot of RP so pardon the occasional lapse into present tense :P

_Viktor stood next to Yuri, straightening his tie nervously as he licked his chapped lips. Through this entire process he was the one who had been steadfast through the pitfalls and struggles, but where he was normally most comfortable, in front of the camera, he was nearly shaking. Yuuri took his arm and leaned into him, reaching up to still his hand. “It’s going to be okay, Viktor,” he said softly, right before the cameras flicked on and Viktor flashed his sunny smile to the camera, squeezing Yuuri’s hand gently._

_“Yuuri and I have decided to take a break from skating to address a more pressing matter than our careers.” The smile he gave the camera was dazzling, and the joy on his face was more than he showed in any of his skates. Almost more than his wedding day. “We are going to start a family.”_

_____

Viktor cooed at the fussy baby as he bounced him on his hip, trying to calm the crying as Yuuri sat at the table with head in his hands. The green numbers on their stove blinked 1AM and Viktor finally sighed. “I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he said apologetically. “He doesn’t want to go down. I think he’s teething.” Yuuri raised his head wearily but offered his husband a half smile.

“It’s alright,” he said wearily and held out his arms for Viktor to relinquish the child. “We’ve been through worse than this. Would it be rude to ask Phichit to take him again so soon? It feels like that date night was years ago,” he chuckled wryly as he swayed in his chair, stroking the shock of blond hair out of Yuri’s face. The baby quieted a little as Yuuri gazed down at him soothingly, and Viktor fetched a glass of cold water for himself.

“Should I warm his bottle?” Viktor asked and Yuuri sighed.

“No, but I don’t know that we’re gonna get much sleep if you don’t find that binky,” he said regretfully. Viktor got a determined look on his face and he offered Yuri a mournful smile.

“The corner store is open all night,” he said, knowing what he had to do. Yuuri nodded stoically, as if braving the freezing St. Petersburg air at one in the morning to buy a drugstore binky was akin to sending Viktor to the front lines of a battlefield.

“Go,” Yuuri gave his permission and Viktor pecked him on the lips before vanishing into the night on his mission.

_____

 _“What do you mean we’ll have to wait?” Viktor demanded, bristling. The social worker looked like she’d rather be anywhere else than in front of this petulant man-child. The case she had so eagerly picked up because it involved celebrities was turning into a nightmare._  
_“I’m sorry, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, apparently the mother wasn’t forthcoming with information about the father….” She hesitated and Viktor clenched his jaw._  
_“What does that mean?”_  
_“She lied,” she sighed. “About who the father was. We can’t proceed with the adoption until we have his consent that he doesn’t want little Yuri.”_  
_“And how long will that take?” Viktor asked, slumping. She shook her head as Yuuri took Viktor’s hand._  
_“I don’t know,” she said, sounding regretful. “All you can do now is wait.”_

_____

“Yuuri,” Viktor called softly, knitting his brow as he brushed his fingers over the bruising. “Did you accidentally grab Yura’s arm?”

“No, why?” the Japanese man called from the other room, busy prepping the bottle.

“He’s got some bruises here,” Viktor said, brow knitting as he finished diapering Yuri but didn’t put on his poodle onesie yet as he carried the boy out to the kitchen, holding the baby out so Yuuri could see. The Japanese man stepped away from the stove and put on his glasses. The fingerprint shaped bruises were defined and clear, and too small for either of their hands. Yuuri frowned and took Yuri in his arms, inspecting the half asleep boy. There were no other marks and Yuuri bit his lip.

“Do you think Yurio’s got a soulmate already?” he asked, surprised and a little upset. It was rare for someone so young to manifest their soulmate, but it wasn’t unheard of. Unlike Yuuri, Viktor relaxed at the thought. He sighed in relief.

“Oh, if that’s it then their parents probably just saved him from taking a dive and it left bruises.” The relieved look in Viktor’s eyes kept Yuuri from saying anything, and he merely smiled at his husband as he took the baby into his own arms.

 _____

_“Go to sleep Viktor,” Yuuri moaned as Viktor turned over in bed for the nth time that night. Viktor gave a soft noise that might’ve been a whine._

_“I_ can’t _Yuuri,” he sighs. “Do you think we’ll be able to bring him home today?” Yuuri’s eyes sliver open, wanting to be annoyed but unable to be when he knew how excited Viktor was. Viktor’s own eyes shone with the light of their digital clock, wide awake and excited._

_“I don’t know,” he said grumpily. “Can you try to rest? You’re gonna be tired in the morning if you don’t get at least a few hours of sleep.” Viktor leaned in close, his breath tickling at Yuuri’s ear as he whispered._

_“Do you think he’ll be excited to come home with us?” he asked._

_“He’s a baby, Viktor,” Yuuri yawned, closing his eyes. “I don’t think he understands.”_

_“Well, I’m excited,” Viktor defends himself, and Yuuri sighs but knows what he has to do. He rolls closer to Viktor, opening his eyes a little again._

_“I know you are, but I need my sleep. Sorry about this babe, but it’s for the greater good.” He takes the extra pillow and shoves it over Viktor’s face, sighing in contentment at Viktor’s grumbling as he nestles his face down in his husband’s chest and goes back to sleep._

 _____

“Yuuri!” Viktor shouted, pulling Yuri to his chest tightly. The baby started to wail as Yuuri ran into the room, eyes wide with terror at Viktor’s tone.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, certain that Viktor had dropped Yuri or something else had happened.

“Oh my god, Yuuri, look at his back,” Viktor gasped, panicking. He removed his hand from Yuri’s soft skin, revealing the sickly purple bruises that spread across half of his shoulder and his lower back. Yuuri’s body went cold and he reached out for the baby, his fingers trembling as he drew Yuri in close to his chest, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Yuri reached out for his hand, sticking his dad’s finger into his mouth and gnawing contentedly as he was distracted from Viktor’s yelling. Yuuri looked up at his husband, struggling to draw in breath.

“Do you think-” he couldn’t even finish the sentence, the truth of it all crashing in on him. Whoever Yuri’s soulmate was, they were in trouble. Marks like this didn’t happen accidentally, and with such increasing regularity. The look in Viktor’s icy blue eyes was enough to cement the reality, and he took a shaky breath. “What can we do?” he asked, and Viktor drew himself up as he placed a protective hand on Yuri’s head.

“Whatever we have to,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss Yuuri on the forehead, the touch a promise.

 _____

  _Yuuri didn’t feel the slightest bit selfish for hogging Yuri on the way home from the orphanage. One well-placed pleading look with those big chestnut eyes had Viktor as weak as a baby and he surrendered Yuri. Yuuri stroked the soft blond hair as Yuri cooed and babbled, hitting at Yuuri’s chest lightly with soft, balled up fists. Yuri gave a shriek of joy as he discovered Yuuri’s glasses. “Oh, baby,” Yuuri cooed. “It’s gonna get confusing when papa calls us both Yuri. But I don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t,” he says in a sweet, babying voice. “Because you’re just as happy to be here aren’t you? Aren’t you?”_

_Viktor gives a coo from the front seat and pulls up his phone. “Smile!” he says as he snaps a picture of them. Yuri gives a happy squeal, more vocal than he’d been on visits before, hands grabbing at Yuuri’s collar. Yuuri barely noticed getting out of the car or walking up their driveway, too enraptured in this tiny being that was currently trying to shove his entire fist in his mouth. Viktor ushered them both inside and left to put on the kettle while Yuuri sat down on the couch to spend some quality time with his son._

_“I love you, Yuri,” Yuuri says seriously, holding the baby up to eye level, cracking a smile as Yuri’s green eyes widen and he reaches out to grab ahold of Yuuri’s nose. “I’ll take that as an ‘I love you too’,” he finally says, breaking into a laugh._

 _____

Viktor Nikiforov rarely ever raised his voice. He didn’t yell when he and Yuuri fought, he didn’t yell when someone cut him off in traffic, and he never, _ever,_ yelled at someone who wasn’t at fault. Until now. It was like seeing someone completely different in his husband’s body, Yuuri thought. Viktor was yelling through the phone, screaming at the woman on the other line that they _had to do something._ Yuuri wanted to help, but he knew that nothing he could do would make Viktor feel better. His baby was suffering the consequences of someone else’s abuse, and the Russian’s desire to protect his child was greater than his politeness.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t find them?” Viktor screamed into the receiver. “I need to speak with a detective. Is there any way to track down soulmates? I am sure that there are people who have done it, I need to know! This child is in danger! My Yuri is proof of that! They are being abused! What do you mean there is nothing to do about it?”

Yuuri licked his lips and set his hand on Viktor’s arm softly, not saying anything but letting him know that he wasn’t alone. It was surprisingly easy to step into the role of calm one when Viktor seemed to be so distressed. It wasn’t often that Viktor lost his cool, but Yuuri knew that his husband needed him to be the strong one for a while. Viktor’s voice faltered and the tears cracked it. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked, voice suddenly soft and strangled. Yuuri couldn’t hear the words on the other line, but Viktor slumped, pressing his free hand to cover his face, silver hair obscuring the broken expression. Yuuri didn’t need to hear the woman’s words; he knew. He freed Viktor’s hand from the phone and ended the call, pulling the taller man into a tight hug.

Viktor felt like wailing, kicking a wall, screaming at the universe, and yet none of that could help their baby, who slept peacefully in the other room. He wouldn’t be able to understand the burden that he had been forced to bear until he was much older, but how could Viktor just stand by and watch it, pretending that everything was alright? What was he supposed to do when all of this was out of his control?

 _____

_Chris cooed, waving his fingers at the baby. “What’s his name?” he asked, smiling down at the blond child._

_“Yuri,” Viktor said proudly, grinning as he cradled the tiny being in his arms like he was a china doll. Yuuri had assured him that it was okay, but he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with holding him despite wanting to be around him 24/7. The name made Chris look up in surprise._

_“Isn’t that… confusing?” he asked, knitting his brow. Viktor nodded, but grinned._

_“He was already named that. Spelled with only one ‘U’ though! We decided not to change his name. It’s precious and fits him,” he said, swaying back and forth. “I mean, if I didn’t change Makkachin’s name when I got her, how could I do that to a child? Surely he means the world and more to me. Besides, Yuuri hated the idea of naming him Ivan.” He chuckled wryly at the memory and Chris held out his arms._

_“Can I hold him?” he asked and Viktor’s face split into a grin._

_“Of course,” he said, delighted that his best friend was so enraptured._

_“Come to Uncle Chris!” he clucked as he took Yuri in his arms. “You’ve got the best papas around. You’re gonna be the happiest little boy to ever live. With these guys you’ll never want for anything,” he promised, and Viktor swelled with pride._

 _____

The moments Viktor thought he was alone were the worst for Yuuri. When the silver head would bow and strong shoulders shook Yuuri knew that Viktor had been defeated for the moment. It was no exception tonight, but Yuuri didn’t want to leave his husband to suffer alone. Yuuri approached him softly, footsteps firm and presence assuring.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said softly, stilling Viktor with a hand on his arm as he seated himself on the edge of the bed. “I know it’s hard to see this, but we have to be strong for Yura.” Viktor seemed to melt as Yuuri forged on with his strong words.  “We can’t protect Yurio’s soulmate, but we can help our son. He never has to feel alone or unloved as long as we are there for him. You can’t give up.” It was as much of a plea as a request and Viktor sniffed, but nodded.

“I won’t,” Viktor promised as he leaned back into Yuuri. He fell silent for a while, then raised his head to look earnestly at his husband. “I want to do something,” he said, and Yuuri knits his brow.

“Like what?”

“I want to raise awareness for…” he winced as the words choke in his throat. “For what’s happening to Yura’s soulmate. I don’t want anyone else to have to go through this.” Yuuri nodded, stroking Viktor’s hair gently.

“We can do that,” he said softly, heart aching as he looked at his husband who was taking this so very hard. Yuri was too young to understand the pain, and Viktor seemed to be taking the brunt of it. Yuuri knew better than most how sensitive the silver haired Russian sweetheart really was. When he’d been dating Yuuri it broke his heart to have to go to bed without a skype call to say goodnight, and after they’d been married he’d been distraught when he thought he’d lost his wedding ring down the sink drain. He’d cried when they couldn’t bring Yuri home from the orphanage that first night and he’d gotten upset when Makkachin kept her distance from Yuri at first. This was just one more thing that would tear him apart.

Yuuri gently drew his fingers through Viktor’s soft, silky hair and gave him a gentle smile. “Get some sleep, love. It’ll be better in the morning, I promise.” He leaned forward to kiss Viktor and lowered him to the bed for some well-deserved rest.


	2. Worlds Rock, Yet Life Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my plebs! Hope you're just as excited as I am to have an update weekly! *Celebratory fireworks for me*. After this my updates will probably be either weekly or bi-monthly, so I hope you enjoy! Things get a little more serious as I delve into Yura's mentality about his soulmate's abuse. I do not wish to portray him as indifferent, but he is desensitized. I promise he's not a total asshole :P

14 years later

The golden light slivered through the shades of Yuri’s east facing window and he contemplated rolling over to catch a few more winks as he blearily woke. The thought was dismissed with the realization that if the sun was peeking over the top of the outbuilding that meant it was already ten AM, and papa was going to come in and roll him out of bed forcibly if he didn’t get out soon. Viktor was never a fan of sleeping in. Yuri levered himself upright, stifling a yawn as he stuck his arms out in front of him and inspected them for the pseudo bruises that had adorned him for as long as he could remember. He grimaced and bit his lip; this morning was bad. Really, really bad.

He stared in morbid and fixated interest as he turned his arms. There were livid red marks all up and down his arms, along with the wicked bruising. He bit his lip and flicked the blankets off, wincing in pity as he stood and surveyed the marks that had been left on his body. He spun a slow circle in front of the full length mirror on his closet door and cranked his head over his shoulder to look at his back. The good mood he’d gotten from his sleep dimmed a little. After all these years it took a lot to make him upset when it came to the bruises that came from his soulmate, but this was above and beyond the unusual. He hadn’t seen marks this bad in years. At least this time there was only one on his face; a softer bruise on his jaw that he could easily cover with makeup. The one around his neck would be harder to cover. It wrapped from one side of his throat to the other, heavy bruising at either side. He threw on his pajama pants and stomped into the kitchen, scowling. Yuuri sat at the table with a newspaper and a mug of coffee, swinging his foot in lazy circles as he read through some boring article. Viktor was pushing eggs around a pan, whistling softly, and was the first to notice Yuri come into the kitchen.

Viktor bit his lip, his eyes raking across Yuri’s chest in pained pity he knew better than to vocalize. Fourteen year old boys were hardly inclined to their every move being assessed by their parents, even if it was for a noble cause. “They’re worse,” Yuri said shortly, acknowledging Viktor’s concern. “Yes I noticed.” Yuuri looked up at the words, eyes critically assessing the marks. He’d learned a long time ago that he was going to suffocate Yuri if he smothered him in worry and concern.

“Are they all fresh?” he asked softly, setting the paper down as Yuri sat down across from him. Viktor set a plate of eggs in front of him and the boy dug in, not bothering to answer his dad until he’d taken a few filling bites.

“Yeah. There were only a few before. They all appeared before I woke up.” He shoveled a few more bites into his mouth. “Hey,” he said, changing the subject before Viktor could ask him any questions on bullshit like ‘how he felt’. “Could I go to the studio today? I promised Lilia that I’d put in some more hours since I spent so much time with Yakov these last few months.” The old divorced couple seemed to wordlessly agree on the talent that the young athlete held, but their mutual hatred of each other had them squabbling over Yuri’s time like jealous housewives. He supposed that he should be grateful for their dedicated attention and the distraction it brought him, but sometimes it was downright exhausting. Yuuri exchanged looks with Viktor, who shrugged.

“If you’re feeling up to it,” he nodded. “I know how hard she drives you. If you need to take a few days off you’re more than welcome to it. Competitions start soon, so papa and I will be busy. We’ll be competing in separate events this year, so you get the choice of the Rostelecom Cup, or Cup of China.”

“Do I have to come with you?” he complained, taking a swig of the water that Viktor set in front of him. Yuuri shot him an unappreciative look.

“You are _fourteen_ , not forty. I could just send you off to stay with Lilia, but I know that you enjoy watching us skate. Come on, I promise we won’t be standing over your shoulder the entire time. You can stay with Phichit or Chris,” he coaxed, trying to get Yurio into a better mood as his son scowled at him angrily and stabbed at his eggs. “If you go to the Rostelecom Cup with papa then Uncle Chris might let you step in on one of his shoots. I know how much you like them.”

Yuri seemed to gain a little interest in that, seeming to consider. “If I do, can I get a camera before the trip?” he asked, scooting forward on the chair and leaning forward. “An early Christmas present?” Yuuri pursed his lips, but smiled indulgently.

“Papa and I will talk over it again, okay? I think we might be a little more lenient closer to Christmas.” He winked and Yuri nodded, satisfied for the moment.

Throughout his life there were very few things that he truly found interest in, and photography was one of them. He’d dreamed of being a model when he was too young to know better, wanting to take after his favored Uncle Chris, but both the bruises and his parents’ horror quickly dissuaded him. As long as his soulmate had so many bruises he could never show his body in front of a camera unless it was for a domestic abuse awareness shoot, and he had his pride after all. He didn’t want to just be a face to represent someone else’s suffering. He had his own life and his own problems, and they so easily were erased from people’s minds when they saw the bruising that wasn’t his own.

Viktor let out a soft sigh as he lowered himself to a seat between Yuuri and Yuri, cradling his coffee jealously. He smacked his lips. “So, you’ll be coming with me?” he asked and Yuri smiled, his spirits lifting a little bit as he thought of the fun he’d have tagging along with Uncle Chris.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Uncle Chris said this year he had this incredible nature shoot. The model is supposed to be super h-” Viktor’s brow rose imperiously and Yuri swallowed the word, shaking his head. “Attractive,” he finished and Viktor nodded.

“Thought so. Yuuri, any objections?” he asked, sipping his drink. The Japanese man pursed his lips.

“No nude shoots,” he said sternly. “I know how Chris gets.”

“But dad,” Yuri whines, “That’s _most_ of his shoots.”

“Then you’ll just have to stay with Marco until he’s finished. I’m sure that painter is a much better influence than your uncle.” Yuri pouted, but at Viktor’s wink he knew that he might have a bit more leeway with his attendance at Chris’s infamous photo shoots. Viktor was a great fan of art, and would defend Chris’s work till the day he died, and, unlike Yuuri, knew what kind of portraits Marco loved to paint. Yuri would probably preserve more of his innocence by going with Chris than attending one of Marco’s portrait sittings. Yuri finished off his eggs and grabbed his satchel, snatching his ballet shoes from the coat hook by the door.

“Bye dad, bye papa,” he said as he grabbed Yuuri’s toast and shoves it in his mouth, chuckling as his dad gave a huff of annoyance. “See you later tonight?” Yuuri sighed long-sufferingly.

“Don’t forget Mrs. Leroy’s birthday party tonight,” he said sternly. “They’re expecting us and you’re not going to make us late. I want you back here by four in time to shower and dress nicely. Papa bought you that nice suit. It’s about time you wore it.” Yuri gave a grunt and ran out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him as he jogged down the street.

~~~~

The rest of the week hit Yuri like a dump truck. The lazy afternoons and late mornings were over as soon as Lilia caught wind of them, and Yuri found himself driven to the breaking point through endless ballet practice and exercises. Both Viktor and Yuuri had been celebrating their anniversary week and they’d gone out for dinner every single night, or sent Yuri to hang out with Mila when they ‘needed some space to themselves’, which was code for gross parent lovey dovey crap. Yuri’s free moments were few and far between, and he savored them by going to his favorite grunge stores to buy new leopard print socks or sleeping. He was a simple boy with simple tastes that could be remedied by cat pictures and new clothing. It took him a while to recognize that something was different, and even then it wasn’t him who pointed it out. He’d been at the skating rink with Lilia for some dreaded ice dancing when she’d made an out of the blue comment.

“Your face,” she said, nodding. He knit his brow, finishing his spin.

“What?” he asked, skating to a halt. She gestured to him, tilting her chin up.

“Your face,” she repeated, louder this time. “The bruises are gone. That’s good. Hopefully they’ll stay that way this time. The makeup doesn’t flatter you.” Yuri rolled his eyes but knew she was right. It was always better when he didn’t have to cover up his soulmate’s bruises. It boosted his confidence and set his parents’ minds at ease, making his life a hell of a lot easier. He had grown up with bruises littering his body. He never really gave much thought to it aside from the daily solemn ablution time where he would study them in the mirror and dedicate a moment of silence to his soulmate, despite his parents being obsessed with it. He knew why, of course, but it didn’t affect him as much as everyone seemed to think it would. He would never have admitted the numbness he felt when he thought about his soulmate to anyone, but his own childhood hadn’t been easy. Being dragged across the globe, showcased as a victim of child abuse, had dulled the compassion he felt towards his soulmate. It was a secret he’d never admit, however strongly he felt it.

He smiled at Lilia as she shooed him back on the ice, pleased. The rest of the day went easily, Lilia tasking him with basic exercises, and since there were no jumps to perform in an ice dance all he had to do was pretend that he was having a tough time and the day passed easily. Lilia let him off with glowing praise and he decided to walk home, the sweet fall air crisp and cool in his face, and his bag felt light. He was pleasantly sore, and it felt nice to stretch his legs. When he got home neither of his parents were there, so he decided to take a shower. There was still time before he’d get to dig into the delicious dinner he was smelling from the kitchen, so he didn’t have to hurry at all. He stripped and hopped in the hot stream of water, pulling his hair from its hair tie with a sigh. He heard the front door open and Viktor’s off-key singing entering the house. It died down eventually, and Yuri was pretty sure that his papa had found some interesting book to settle down with, because God forbid he do anything useful like set the table. Yuri chuckled to himself at that, and poured some shampoo directly on the top of his head, too tired to care how much he was putting on.

He scrubbed down his body, yawning. It had been a while since he’d gotten a good shower, and savored the hot water. The whole room was fogged up and he had to wipe the condensation off the mirror as he wiped himself down. He let his eyes in the mirror and he smiled, his clear unblemished skin pearly and beautiful. Nothing made him feel better than clear skin. The smile slowly faded as he cocked his head, studying his entire body, realizing that he hadn’t noticed any new bruises since a week ago when he’d woken up with those truly nasty marks. The mark around his neck had been the one that took the longest to heal, and it had distracted him from the fading of the other bruises. He checked down his arms and legs and then again, turning around in front of the mirror and seeing no marks at all.

His throat tightened, a worm of worry twisting in his belly. He stared for a long moment at his body, and felt his hands start to tremble. The more he stared and thought the worse it became, before he finally broke into a panic. He wrenched open the door, wrapping a towel around his waist before bolting out, fingers going numb from shock.

“Papa!” he screeched, running into the living room with water still dripping down his hair and arms, chest heaving. Viktor’s head snapped up and he swung his legs off of the couch.

“Yuratchka, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned at the tone in his son’s voice. Yuri felt his throat close up, a wail fighting to be released.

“The- the- they’re gone,” he sobbed, hugging himself. “The bruises are gone!”

Viktor’s face went white as he looked over his son, standing and grabbing Yuri’s shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked. For all the concern he had over Yuri’s soulmate, his instant worry was for his son and his son alone. Yuri shuddered, wanting to cry.

“Papa, what does that mean?” he asked, sniffing as he looked up, eyes brimming with tears. Viktor hugged him tighter.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, burying his face in Yuri’s soft hair as he clutched him close. “I don’t know, baby.” Yuri sobbed and pressed his face into Viktor’s shirt, curling up in his arms as it all came crashing down on it. He thought that it would have been a relief to be rid of the bruises, but not like this; not when he wasn’t the knight in shining armor sweeping in to save his soulmate’s life. Did the lack of bruises mean that his soulmate was safe or did it mean they were… gone? He was never the hopeful type, and when it came to Yuri’s soulmate, Viktor wasn’t either. Viktor couldn’t do much more than hold his boy as Yuri cried into his chest, thinking about the worst that could have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, my little snowbeans! Play safe out there, and I'll see you on the flip side.


	3. Easiest Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slightly older, yet no wiser, Yuri finds himself unable to back out of attending school, but that doesn't mean he has to like it there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello moondrops! Here is your chapter, as promised! Though I might have to switch updates to wednesdays, considering my Uni classes all decided collectively to have quizzes weekly on tuesdays :P I really hope you enjoy!

_Yuri stared at his therapist –also known as the woman who was fast becoming his worst enemy- as he tried to scare her into silence with his glare, but it wasn’t working. She swung her foot in lazy circles as she spoke, her fingers laced primly over one knee. “The fact is, the thing I think will be most useful to your son right now is exposure to a group of his peers.” She spoke softly, her damning words masked by pleasantness. Yuuri and Viktor were in love with her, Yuri swore._

_“This is ridiculous,” Yuri growled, but neither his dad nor his papa were listening to him, and Yuri couldn’t blame them really. It had been a dreary year of hopelessness for the entire Katsuki-Nikiforov household as Yuri sank into a pattern of anxiety and depression, unable to be roused. His parents had done their best to make sure that he was taken care of, giving him the means to his hobbies, taking him to a therapist, and forming a support group of their close knit family. They’d promised to help as best they could, but Yuri had shut them out as he searched his body daily for some sign of his soulmate’s marks, begging the heavens above for anything to show him that he hadn’t lost a piece of his soul before he had the chance to ever find it. Yuri couldn’t begrudge his parents their endeavors to help him, but he could hate his therapist for even suggesting that he step out of the comfortable pain he’d been growing accustomed to. Hopefully he could whine his way out of the hole his therapist was digging for him. Viktor leaned forward eagerly, clasping his hands together as he smiled._

_“Would you suggest that we put him into an enhanced sports program?” he asked, eyes excited. Yuri could swing that. It wouldn’t really be any different than his lessons with Yakov or Lilia, and ignoring people had become his specialty. The therapist shook her head._

_“No. He already has quite a load of sports related activities that he takes part in. I was thinking that enrolling him in high school would be the best option.” To Yuri’s dismay Viktor seemed to brighten even more and Yuuri’s hand tightening over his husband’s fingers. Viktor didn’t miss a beat, nodding._

_“Done. We will find the best school in the province of St. Petersbe-” The therapist held up a hand, smiling but shaking her head._

_“I think it might be better if Yuri attends a normal high school. I understand that you want the best education for Yuri, but what he needs now is a cohort. Our goal is not to give him a stellar education –though that is important- but to provide him with a stable support structure in a social setting.” Yuuri was the one who nodded this time._

_“I think you’re right. Thank you. Of course we will consider that,” he said with a hopeful smile on his face, and like that, Yuri knew he was doomed._

_******_

Yuri stuffed the bagel into his mouth, glaring at his dad. “Thifs ifw stwfid,” he said indignantly, mouth full of the dense bread. Yuuri didn’t bother chastising Yuri; he was getting his way regardless of Yuri’s pouting and was as smug as a cat fed cream. Yuuri just stirred his tea and leaned down to plant a fond kiss on the top of Yuri’s head.

“You’ll do well, Yura. Now eat your food and don’t forget your lunch!” Yuri rolled his eyes.

“I _won’t_ ,” he snorted after swallowing, nose crinkled up. “Honestly, it’s not preschool. I can take care of myself.” Yuuri’s brow arched and he laughed softly, unable to help it.

“How can you take care of yourself when you’ve forgotten to feed Puma Tiger Scorpion two days in a row?” Yuri’s eyes widened but Yuuri shook his head. “Don’t worry, I fed her. Just remember from now on, okay?” Yuri nodded, shamefaced.

“Okay, dad. I’m sorry.” His apology was genuine. If he cared about anything in life it was his family and his cat, and the realization he’d neglected her stung. He finished the rest of his bagel in silence until Viktor danced into the kitchen, one earbud in and his finger wagging as he listened to the year’s theme he was going to skate to.

“Papa, can I stay home, just for today?” Yuri asked without preamble, but Viktor didn’t miss a beat.

“Can I compete in the junior division at the age of thirty three?” he sang and Yuri glowered.

“You don’t have to be such an ass about it,” he mumbled and Viktor pouted his lips, one brow raised.

“I’m sorry, my papa sensor is detecting outrageous amounts of sass and potty language. There’s no real way you can win this encounter without an apology, mister.” Yuri settled for sulking instead of apologizing and finishing his breakfast. He dragged his feet as he complained but finally got together his backpack filled with schoolbooks and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

Yuri watched the clock anxiously until he really couldn’t stall any longer and stepped close to the door, putting his shoes on. There was silence for a long moment, and Yuri licked his lips. He looked up, opening his mouth to make one last ditch effort to get himself out of it but Viktor was already shaking his head. “This’ll be good for you, Yurio,” he said softly. “You’re going to go, and you’re going to try to make friends, okay?” Yuri scowled at him.

“Hardly likely,” he snapped, hoisting the bag onto his shoulder and stepping out of the house, making sure to slam the door as loud as he could for optimal effect. Through the last year he’d been given everything he’d asked for, but he was doomed the second his therapist had suggested that he be sent to school to socialize. Now that he didn’t have any bruises except his own to explain away it wasn’t a problem to have him interact like a normal child. Yuri had thought that he could just whine his way out of this too, but his parents had clung to the idea like they were sauce over sticky rice. No amount of pleading, threatening, or downright sobbing had moved them from the idea that this was the perfect thing to do for him, and he cursed them to the quiet sky on the short walk to the school.

The walk gave him time to clear his head and mentally prepare, all the while pasting a scowl on his face. He’d worn his favorite skinny jeans and tiger shirt, and felt like they were armor. The walk was only half an hour long, and the air was mild and crisp, warm for September. When the dull building came into view he realized that he really was locked into this. The school was old, made in soviet era concrete style, a few of the pillars out front painted blue in an effort to make the school look cheerier. As he got closer he noticed the cracks in the concrete walls and dips in the parking lot, but was relieved to see plenty of windows and some flowers growing in the flower beds surrounding the school.

The few cars in the parking lot were shabby and not really worth looking at as Yuri walked by, but there was a motorcycle parked in one of the two handicapped parking spots and Yuri felt a twinge of anger. Who the hell was stupid and rude enough to park a motorcycle in a handicapped spot when there was perfectly good parking just a little further down? He walked past it and was a little baffled to see a permit thrown across the seat carelessly, but the bafflement gave way to annoyance as he dismissed the possibility that the tag could belong to the same person as the bike. He added an impressive, angry spring to his step, jutting his chin out.

The school doors were heavy and green, and Yuri felt like he was walking into a prison as they shut behind him with a bang. He pulled the crumpled paper itinerary out of his pocket to check the room number one last time before heading down the hallway slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for the office. He was supposed to meet the principal there, and receive his class schedule, but he would rather just turn around and bolt back home. Pride was the only thing that kept him walking down the hallway, and when a shiny bald head poked out from a doorway he knew he was doomed.

An enormous, rotund man stepped out of what Yuri assumed was the office, cheeks ruddy and looking vaguely out of breath. “The new student?” he asked, huffing as he shut the door behind him, smiling merrily at the lanky kid in front of him.

“Yeah,” Yuri nearly sneered, reigning himself in last minute as he remembered the warning his dad had given him to be polite.

“What’s your name?” The jolly man asked, eyes sparking.

“Yuri Plisetsky-Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

“Ah yes, the ice skaters’ child! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yuri!” The principal beamed down at him, looking far too happy to be staring down at a glowering teenager who looked like he wanted to throttle everyone within sight. He shook Yuri’s hand warmly and stepped back, lacing his meaty hands over his rotund stomach that wobbled with the movement. Yuri stared fixedly at the belly, wondering if it defied gravity and if he poked it it might just keep wobbling indefinitely through perpetual motion. He zoned out for a minute, staring, but started when the principal waved his arm in a broad sweep. “Well, I cannot show you around, but I will have Mr. Minami, our student body president, give you the grand tour of our humble school!”

“Pfft, run-down might be a better word,” he scoffed, and the principal blinked in surprise at the words, but didn’t blow up like Yuri had assumed he would. Instead a perky boy popped up beside Yuri as if from thin air.

“Hi!” The boy said brightly. Yuri took a moment to study him, seeing as he was the first kid who’d bothered to talk to him, even if he was obligated to because of his student body president status. He had his hair dyed a chicken nugget shade of yellow and a weird red streak in the front. “My name is Minami! I’m the student body president and I’m going to be showing you around today!” He stuck out a hand that Yuri eventually shook. “What’s your name?” he asked as the principal made his waddling escape.

“Yuri Plisetsky-Katsuki-Nikiforov,” Yuri said stiffly, eyes narrowed. Minami’s eyebrows rose, but he grinned.

“Quite a mouthful,” he laughed. “Nice to meet you Yuri. I’m gonna show you to your locker!”

“Okay,” Yuri sighed, looking around and feigning boredom, hauling his backpack up over his shoulder.

Minami never seemed to stop talking, but Yuri had to admit he was very thorough. He made sure Yuri knew which wings of the school were for each subject, where the bathrooms and nurse’s offices were, and where the library was. They seemed to be nearing the end of their tour when Minami tapped on the wall and turned to face Yuri, ignoring the kids that came pouring out of the classrooms as a bell rang, all on a hurry to somewhere. “I really hope you enjoy it here, Yuri. If you need anything you can find me or the principal. Oh, and if you drive you can park anywhere in the parking lot.” He gestured through the window to the lot Yuri had walked by earlier. Yuri gave a cursory glance and then frowned as he saw the same bike from earlier still in the handicapped parking. Whoever had parked there was certainly taking their damn time. “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Yuri scowled. “I do. Whose bike is that?” he asked, pointing. Minami’s eyes widened and he gave a broad smile.

“That’s Otabek Altin’s! It’s really cool isn’t it?” This boy was just far too energetic for Yuri’s taste. He snorted, shutting the kid down.

“Sure, if you like beat up rust cans from the Nazi era. My grandpa’s lemon looks better than that thing.” The words had the desired effect and Minami’s brows rose. “And what’s the deal with that asshole parking in the handicapped section? Who’s he steal the tag from, his grandma?” Yuri continued, scoffing.

“That _rust can_ is a 1947 Ariel Red Hunter, and is worth more than your pitiful life,” a stiff, growling voice said from behind Yuri. The blond whipped around, suddenly face to face with a boy who wasn’t much taller than him, but seemed to loom from the way his eyes burned into Yuri’s. Yuri summoned a sneer onto his expression, defiantly standing up to this boy who was probably Otabek Altin.

“Yeah? Well you’re not gonna have that bike much longer if they catch you parking in the handicapped section,” he challenged. “You know that the fine for that’s worth more than _your_ life. What helpless old lady did you lift the permit from?” Otabek’s eyes narrowed and he lifted his chin to stare down his nose at the punk.

“It’s mine,” he said coolly, “Though that isn’t something you need to know or I am obligated to tell you.” Yuri was thrown, but brought his sneer back in record time.

“Oh, a liar as well as a bad boy. Typical. For the record, your bike looks like it was hauled out of a Nazi scrap yard.” He spun on his heel and started to walk down the hall.

He wasn’t expecting to be jolted to a halt when Otabek grabbed the back of Yuri’s coat. “If you key my bike, I will flay you alive,” Otabek whispered, and Yuri couldn’t stop the goosebumps that ran down his arms and spine. He snorted to hide the fear.

“I wouldn’t bother dulling my keys on it,” he said haughtily, and stalked away when Otabek let him go. Minami grimaced, giving an apologetic wave to Otabek before rushing after Yuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was a lot of terrible school filler, but I decided I needed to portray a little of his absolute misery, and heyyyyy, Otabek appears! Hurry, Yuri, you've gotta catch him before he takes that beautiful Ariel red hunter and leaves... can you tell I've been working on my bike? :P Alright, play safe out there and I'll see you on the flip side.


	4. Civic Agression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a better combo than loudmouthed Yuri in a library? Perhaps a little dash of confrontation added?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating so late, my little seashells! Who knew it was so hard to write about grandfatherly interactions when what I /really/ wanted is a whole chapter or two away? :P

Admittedly, Yuri’s first week at school was far better than the first day, but that didn’t stop him from pitching a fit about it to his parents. He hadn’t seen Otabek Altin since his awkward and blatant outburst in the hallway, and had chosen to ignore the bike that seemed to taunt him from the handicapped spot, but his classes were boring as hell and he didn’t really see a point in paying attention. He was embarrassed to admit that he’d picked a fight the first day of school, so he didn’t mention it, but he had no problem expounding on his woes about school to his dad and papa, who listened with seeming indifference. It wasn’t until the end of Yuri’s first week that he realized his complaints hadn’t fallen on deaf ears.

“Dad, papa, I’m home!” he yelled as he tromped into the house, kicking leaves off of his shoes and a scowl pasted on his face. “You wouldn’t believe what we had to do in-” His voice died as he tromped into the sitting room, and his eyes widened. “Dedushka?”  he squeaked, a grin sweeping across his face as he saw his parents and grandfather sitting in the cozy living room. Yuuri and Viktor grinned like mad as Yuri’s grandpa rose.

“Yuratchka,” his grandfather said as he opened his arms, voice gravely and coarse from warmth and years of smoking. Yuri’s eyes widened and he burst into a sunny smile, grabbing ahold of his grandfather and squeezing tightly.

“Grandpa! You’re back from Moscow!”

“Yes, yes, I am, and I hear you are in school! How are my little Yura’s grades, hmm?” he laughs, rubbing his grandchild’s hair.

“Grandpa! It’s only been a few days, I don’t even have homework yet!” Yuri replied

“Hmph, so no math that your old grandpa can help you out with? What did I come all the way out here for then?” he asked, pretending to be irritated. Yuri grinned as Yuuri gave a light chuckle.

“Well, I suppose you could always stay for dinner, Nikolai,” Yuuri suggested with a cheeky smile. “Besides, my piroshky never turns out like yours does.” Nikolai nodded sagely.

“You use too much rice wine,” he wagged his finger at Yuuri and Yuri grinned, sinking to a seat on the couch as his grandpa and dad bickered laughingly at what the right way to prepare meat was.

The presence of Yuri’s dedushka wiped away all the irritation he had been feeling and he just basked in the glow of his family’s playful banter. Even though Nikolai hadn’t been able to take him in as a baby he had wished to remain in Yuri’s life, and there was nothing Yuri appreciated more than the fact his fathers had embraced Nikolai as their own family, and he had been allowed to grow up with fantastical stories, a family who all loved him dearly, and a sense of community in which he thrived in. Dinner and dessert passed in a whirlwind, and Yuri snuggled up under his grandfather’s arm as they settled on the couch, eyes drooping as he inhaled the sweet scent of tobacco and charcoal. He fell asleep to the gentle humming of the adults’ voice, perils of school life forgotten as his grandfather sheltered him under his heavy arm.

When Yuri woke he was still on the couch but was covered with heavy quilts. The smell of mushrooms and bacon assaulted his nostrils, and he felt his heart ache with memories of their family during the summer, the off season treat of the fatty pork almost better than the katsudon Mama Katsuki would make. Yuri felt his eyes water a little as he heard his grandpa’s voice along with his dad’s in the kitchen, but blinked away the traitorous tears as he sat up. True to form he complained about being left on the couch all night and how his back was killing him, but the hugs he gave to his parents and grandfather were more truthful than his words.

Saying goodbye to his grandfather later that afternoon was still hard, and Yuri almost cried but held himself together as his grandfather made him promise to call at least once a week and hugged him tightly. Though the goodbye was difficult his mood improved drastically, and Yuuri and Viktor applauded themselves on their manipulative skills.

 

*****

 

Yuri was still on a high from his grandfather’s visit through the next week, and couldn’t even be brought down when his history teacher told the class sternly that they had a project due the next Friday and couldn’t use any internet sources. That delightful news meant that either the woeful school library was his only option, or he would have to make an after school trek to the public library. There were worse things in life than taking a walk in late fall for half a mile; at least he wouldn’t have to take the walk in dead of winter.

Deciding to get a head start on his report, he decided to ditch the pep talk Minami was going to give him after school and head to the public library. He never really went to any public places before his soulmate had passed away, and afterwards he’d been too distraught to take solace in anything other than his cat and the internet. He didn’t feel bad about leaving Minami behind, especially when he stepped foot into the slightly dingy library that smelled of dark parchment and wispy dreams. It was like a fantasy, with fat, lazy dreams buzzing around all those bent heads. He shook himself free of that ridiculous thought and started to browse, looking through all of the books that he could use, skipping over fiction and war books until he stood in front of the sports section.

Yuri stared at the books thoughtfully, tapping his lip as he considered. He was allowed to do a report about anything between 1920 and present time, but he didn’t want to cover any of the ways or military standoffs; every kid in the class was going to do one of the world wars, Yuri was sure. They weren’t smart enough to think of anything better, but Yuri was far more clever. He wanted to be the one who blew his teacher’s socks off, and maybe, _maybe_ , he’d get the old grumpy man to like him. Perhaps he could do a paper on Russian athletes… he could get interviews with his family and family friends too and really lock it in hard. Yuri was lost in thought for a moment, then was pulled out of his thoughts.

“Excuse me,” a dark, tired voice said and Yuri spun around, stepping aside to let the librarian pass with his cart full of books, but his breath caught in his throat as he recognized the sharp, dark eyes and scruffy hair. Otabek didn’t seem to notice anything as he started to shelve books with gloved hands, but when Yuri gave a squeak Otabek’s dark eyes flicked to the boy beside him. The eventual spark of recognition flared in Otabek’s eyes and he locked his jaw, but didn’t say anything.

Yuri’s eyes widened but he didn’t have the chance to say anything before Otabek was turning around and leaving, pushing the cart of books away. Yuri was stranded for a moment with his jaw dropped. “Hey!” he called, earning a shush from the desk librarians, but didn’t stop him from catching up to Otabek. He edged in front of him, spreading his arms to halt the other boy in his tracks. For a second Yuri thought that he was going to get flattened by an angry librarian and his cart full of books, but Otabek stopped a mere three inches from ramming into Yuri’s stomach with the unforgiving steel edge of the cart and settled for glaring at him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” The tone was flat, and didn’t match the glare Otabek settled Yuri with, but Yuri didn’t back down.

“Yes, yes there is.” He smoothed his voice into something that was friendly and soft, for the desk librarian’s sake. “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot-” He was interrupted nearly as soon as he started talking.

Otabek scowled. “English,” he demanded, and Yuri’s brows rose, but he switched over immediately.

“Oh, sorry. Umm,” he floundered, not having expected Otabek to be so… so _hostile_ immediately _._ The fact that the taller boy just _might_ have a reason didn’t even occur to him. “So, when did you start working at the library?” Otabek crossed his arms.

“Is that what you came to ask me about?” he asked in contempt. “If so don’t waste my time. I don’t do small talk.” He started to edge his way around the blond but Yuri was nothing if not stubborn. He stepped right back in Otabek’s way, blocking his way out. The only way he was going to get through was if he hit Yuri, and a little nagging voice in the back of the blond’s head told him he wouldn’t do that. Otabek glared daggers at him, seeming to swell, but Yuri had learned stubbornness from his dads. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. Finally Otabek stepped back, giving a petulant sigh.

“Since I was sixteen.” He supplied the information unwillingly, but Yuri would take it.

“What do you like to eat?” He could have shot himself in the foot for the look Otabek gave him, but didn’t back down because he knew if he did then he would lose any credibility he had with Otabek, if he had any at all.

“Why the hell does that matter?” Otabek asked, trying to circumvent Yuri with the cart, but the blond stuck out his chin and stepped right back in the way.

“Because I asked, asshole. Answer me and I’ll let you pass. I’m sure it’s so terribly important that you get those books sorted.” Sarcasm was dripping from his voice, but Otabek’s expression remained motionless and stoic.

“I like curry and salad. Let me pass, _asshole_ ,” he sighed, and Yuri nodded, stepping to the side.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked, but Otabek didn’t answer and he vanished through the swinging door into the back of the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, that's all for today, folks! Get some rest, take a breather and drink some water, your burdens can wait till tomorrow. Play safe out there and I'll see you on the flip side.


	5. Lunchroom Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bebe Yurio is an asshole... what else is new? You can still work in a library and be badass, Beka says. Big reveal. Much angst. So wow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rises from the deep to bring you a chapter that I am still not happy with* Hello my lil sea pebbles! Hope you enjoy!

The back of the library wasn’t nearly as quiet as the rest of it, but all the workers looked up when Otabek stomped through, giving him a chorus of greetings that he didn’t return. He slumped down at his desk, where a pile of brightly colored reading pamphlets were staring up at him with stickers to be affixed. He scowled as he slumped into his chair, ripping off one section of stickers and affixing them to the covers of the pamphlets with a righteous fury, the latex of his gloves squeaking across the shiny stickers with the pressure he applied. His scowl deepened as he thought over what had happened, Yuri’s bright eyes staring him down as if he had any right to demand anything from Otabek. Who did he think he was? He was a stuck up rich kid who felt entitled to everything. Well Otabek had news for him. He wasn’t entitled to Otabek, in any sense of the word, and Otabek imagined just slamming that librarian’s cart right into his gut. The fact that he shouldn’t do that at work escaped him in favor of malicious fantasies. He forgot his work for a moment and was pulled unwillingly from his fantasies at a soft hum from behind him.

“Woah there,” Leo leaned over Otabek. “Might wanna go easy on those stickers! Kids love those things, and some of them get a little upset when they’re crooked, and so obviously applied with anger from adult problems.” Otabek sighed and leaned back, looking up at Leo.

“Sorry,” he grunted, but all that did was earn a laugh and a wave from Leo.

“Don’t give me a sorry! Lighten up a bit, huh?” His chiding was offset with laughter, and Otabek grimaced, but nodded.

“Okay. Can I have Emil do this?” he asked, looking up. “I can’t… can’t really focus.” Leo nodded sympathetically.

“Here, I’ll do it. Go back to sorting.” He nudges Otabek out of his seat and takes over putting stickers on the little booklets for children.

*****

Yuri hoisted his backpack over his shoulder as he looked over the cafeteria for Minami’s shock of yellow hair accented by a freshly dyed shock of burgundy hair. Minami never sat at the same table twice in a row, flitting back and forth like a social butterfly through the weeks. Today he was at a table that was fairly crowded, sitting on the tabletop as he talked animatedly with a couple girls. Yuri wormed his way through the crowd as he descended the steps into the arena that was the school’s lunchroom. He was glad that he had taken stock of where Minami was beforehand because the buzzer hadn’t rang and it was hectic. When he finally reached the table and set down his bag he heaved a sigh of relief.

He was surprised to see Otabek sitting at the far end of the table, the standard school lunch in front of him untouched as he scrolled through his phone. Minami shot him a warning look, telling him that he better behave, but Yuri rolled his eyes. He hadn’t picked a fight with Otabek since the first day they’d met, and he thought their interaction in the library had been a good display of his ability to let bygones be bygones. He took a seat next to Minami, across the table and down a few seats from Otabek, and unwrapped his sandwich. His dad had packed him a sandwich, a tomato, and a bottle of sparkling water, and he cast a longing glance at Minami’s bag of chips, but didn’t say anything. He would stop by a store afterwards and grab something to sate his hunger for grease and salt. The perk of not being homeschooled anymore meant that he could regulate his own diet to some extent. Viktor was never paying attention to the fact that he’d already given Yuri allowance money, so Yuri could always ask for more and get double, or sometimes triple his usual monthly allowance. He would be able to afford a family sized bag of chips if he wanted.

Nothing of interest happened as Yuri gnawed on his sandwich and then his tomato, turning Minami out as he looked out across the lunchroom in boredom, wondering what Lilia was going to have him to as a regiment tomorrow. He only happened to catch it out of the corner of his eye, or he wouldn’t have noticed, but when it did it was glaringly obvious. Otabek finished his lunch and piled the plastic wrappers on his tray before getting up, and he stumbled a little as he stepped out from behind the bench. It was a tiny slip up but it caught Yuri’s eye and he instantly paid more attention as Otabek walked towards the trashcan, eyes dull and fixed somewhere in the middle distance. His shoulders were a little slumped and he wasn’t focused at all on his walk, which is what made his limp more than noticeable. Yuri made a surprised noise and Otabek was startled into looking over at him.

“You’ve got a limp,” Yuri said in surprise, then flushed as he realized what he’d said. Minami looked over at him like he’d lost his mind, and Otabek’s eyes flashed with rage before smoothing back out into that stoic mask that seemed to slip whenever he was around Yuri.

“And you look like a girl. At least I had the tact not to say it out loud.” Yuri flushed angrily, jolting to his feet.

“I do not look like a girl!” Great, now he’d shouted it for the entire cafeteria to hear. Otabek stared at him, huffed a brittle chuckle without a smile, and left, his limp hardly noticeable when pure rage radiated off of him like nuclear emissions. A tight ball of rage lit in his chest and he simmered with anger.

“Yuri,” Minami said quietly, reaching out to grab his sleeve but Yuri yanked it away.

“He can’t speak to me like that,” he growled, and went after Otabek. The Kazakh had vanished already through the doors, but Yuri chased after him, cheeks burning as he felt eyes on him.

He slammed the door of the cafeteria behind him and yelled after Otabek, who was stalking away. “Hey! Get back here!” The dark boy didn’t turn, and Yuri ran up behind him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around with all of his strength. Otabek stumbled, but regained his footing.

“Let go,” Otabek growled, recoiling, but Yuri shook him, eyes blazing with fury.

“How dare you say that!?”

“Let go of me, Plisetsky. I won’t ask you again,” Otabek snarled, pulling away from Yuri, wishing the slighter boy would just stay where he was and let Otabek retreat away. He would do anything to avoid a physical altercation, unless, of course, it required him to apologize. He tried to take a step back but Yuri dug his heels in and yanked back, shamelessly off balancing Otabek. Otabek hissed and struggled but Yuri kept his hands wound in Otabek’s sleeves.

“Not until you apologize, you absolute prick! You have been nothing but rude and mean to me since I got here!”

“I have been rude to you?” he snapped, hissing in disbelief. “Weren’t you the one who insulted my bike, insulted me, and affronted me in my workplace?” he yelled. Otabek took a step forward as Yuri yanked him, and Yuri panicked, thinking that Otabek was going for him. He punched him straight in the mouth, his knuckles glancing off of Otabek’s jaw and he stumbled.

Otabek stiffened, hand flying up, but though Yuri flinched Otabek just put his hand to his lip, looking shocked to the point of being sick. There was eye contact for a moment, and then Otabek planted a hand in the middle of Yuri’s chest and shoved him away. Yuri was pushed so hard that his back hit the opposite lockers and Otabek vanished around the corner, his hand pressed to his mouth and head ducked as his gimp leg dragged noticeably. Yuri took a deep breath, shaken from the look he’d seen in Otabek’s eyes. He rarely saw such raw emotion in _anyone’s_ eyes, and he hadn’t expected it to be in the eyes of someone he hated so much. He took a deep breath, bracing his back against the lockers as he set his hands on his knees, taking deep, even breaths. His face felt hot and he finally straightened, headed to the bathroom. He felt bad, for a reason he pretended was inexplicable, and needed to splash some cold water on his face.

The nearest bathroom was just a few meters away and he ducked into it, feeling shaky inside and guilty. He’d never hit anyone before… The faucet water was cold and he ran his hand under the stream, knowing he’d have to explain iced knuckles to his parents and dreading it. He met his eyes in the mirror and then froze. No, that couldn’t be right. He raised his hand to his mouth, certain that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him when he felt the unmistakable bulge of a split lip. There was no pain and no blood, but the split mark was there, and he felt his blood run cold. It could’ve been a coincidence… it _had_ to be a coincidence. Shit, Yuri was stubborn, but he wasn’t about to just dismiss the chance that he might have just found who he was looking for in an empty school hallway. He caught his breath and took out his phone with shaking hands.

_To: Papa_

_I’m coming home early._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm straight up on an endorphin high from updating :P Alright, rest up, play safe out there, and I'll see you on the flip side.


	6. The Breakfast (or late afternoon snack) Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pshht, I totally wasn't gone more than a month *Shakes head* totally not. I was dealing with some crazy stuff (e.g. mental health, school, and work) so I didn't have much inspiration but I am BACK NOW. Love y'all, play safe, and i'll see ya on the flip side.

“Papa, dad!” Yuri yelled, bursting through the door and tripping over the doorframe. “ _papa, daaddddd!_ ”

“What? What is it Yurio?” Viktor asked, running out of the kitchen with a towel clutched to his chest. Yuri gasped as Yuuri followed his husband out, hands still sudsy from washing dishes.

“I found my soulmate! I found my soulmate!” Yuuri’s head whipped around to look at Viktor, but his husband had an immediate high flush in his cheeks, sparkling eyes betraying the fact that he’d fallen right into Yuri’s words. He would not be swayed by any amount of pointed looks, and Yuuri felt his heart sink as Viktor rushed to Yuri, holding his shoulders as he peered down into his son’s eyes.

“You did? Where? What are they like? How do you know?” Viktor asked breathlessly, words spilling out faster than Yuuri could process as his husband continued to barrage Yuri with questions. Yuri grabbed his papa’s elbows, brimming with as much excitement as Viktor had.

“He was right in front of me the whole time! He goes to my school—” Yuri started but Yuuri’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms.

“Yuri Alvin Plisetsky-Katsuki-Nikiforov, is that a swollen lip?” he interrupted and Viktor’s attention was finally drawn to it.

“...Yurio, what happened, and your knuckles!” He noticed those before Yuuri and the Japanese man felt his heart sink.

“Did you get into a fight?” Yuuri asked, voice low. Yuri actually looked surprised and at a loss for words then he shook his head.

“No, no, that’s not what happened! This…” he looked down at his hands, raising them up. “This was a mistake. An accident. It’s okay though, promise. Dad, he’s perfect.” He switched subjects so easily it wasn’t hard to tell what occupied his thoughts and Viktor grabbed his shoulders and steered him to the kitchen.

“We’ll get lots of talking about fighting habits in, but I want to hear about this boy. What’s he like?” Viktor seated him at the table and sat across from him, leaning across the table. “How did you meet him?”

Yuri took a deep breath and started to expound, his voice losing sine of the harshness that it normally possessed. “We met my first day of school, but we only had a little talk. It wasn’t very long or important, and frankly I thought he was kind of mean, but he was mostly just quiet. He wears the same four articles of clothing, but I can fix that,” he said cheerily. He continued talking and Viktor nearly bubbled over with joy. This was the most Yuri had talked in months with such excitement, and both of his parents noticed, but Yuuri wanted to get breakfast finished and thought it might normalize the conversation that was turning on its head. Yuri gave a brief and repetitive rundown of his day all supposedly leading up to how he met this boy.

It took a while, and Yuuri kept glancing to Viktor. Finally Yuuri cleared his throat and Viktor looked up, then flushed as he scrambled up. “I’m sorry,” he apologized and Yuuri gave a soft, forgiving smile as he handed him the spoon for the eggs. Viktor took the spoon and craned his head over his shoulder. “Keep going, Yura,” he encouraged as he helped with breakfast.

Yuri leaned his elbow on the table, looking dreamily at the ceiling. “He’s only a few centimeters taller than me, but he’s so… so…  _broad._ ” Viktor grinned as he stirred the eggs, drunk off Yuri’s bliss. Yuuri felt like the only one who had some semblance of wariness, but he didn’t want to ruin his boys’ fun.

“Broad? Broad like me?” Viktor teases and Yuri gives a snort.

“No, not like  _you,_ ” he laughs, wrinkling his nose. “He’s dark and ruggedly handsome…” Yuuri snorted, having to laugh.

“So you’re saying my husband isn’t attractive?” Yuuri asked, acting offended. “How dare you, Yuri. I’m married to the handsomest man alive.” Viktor smiled at his husband, batting his eyelashes as Yuri continued talking about Otabek as if he was some sort of perfect prince.

“He’s got a kind of bad boy vibe going on, but I’m sure he’s just a sweetheart under it all. I mean, of course he’s got issues, but after his childhood, I can’t really blame him.” Viktor and Yuuri exchanged a look, and Viktor licked his lips but broached the subject that was on both of the parents’ minds.

“Yuri,” he hesitated, but at Yuri’s curious look he forged on. “I know you’re excited, and you have every right to be, but I just wanted you to take into the consideration that Otabek may not be willing to pursue a relationship.” The blond frowned, setting his orange juice down.

“What- what do you mean?” he asked, thrown by his papa’s words. Viktor smiled comfortingly, reaching over the table to touch Yuri’s hand.

“His background might make him trusting anyone… hard.”

“Well, yeah, of course I understand that, and I’m willing to work around it! I can wait for him.” Yuri’s eyes were bright and words foolish and Yuuri winced. He looked pointedly at Viktor, who sucked on his lip for a moment before speaking again, voice gentler.

“Yuri. Maybe he won’t be ready for a relationship ever.” Yuri blinked, surprised.

“…Ever?” He looked so devastated that Viktor’s fatherly instincts kicked in and he stood, moving to Yuri’s side and hugging him as Yuuri pushed the food off of the burners and turned his attention to his husband and child.

“It’s okay, Yuratchka,” Viktor soothed. “I’m not saying that that will happen, but it is something you have to make accommodations for. You have to be prepared for the worst that could happen.” Yuri’s expression twisted into a scowl.

“He’s my  _soulmate_!” he yelled, stomping his foot. “He has to understand that! I’ve lived my entire life caring about him! He can’t do that to me!” Yuuri pursed his lips and moved to stand behind Yuri, setting a calming hand on his son’s shoulder. Yuri face twisted in anger and he bolted upright, hands clenched.

“Yura, calm down,” Yuuri tried soothingly. “It’s not a slight against you for him to be cautious. It doesn’t mean he hates you.”

“But,” he started, nearly panting and shaking with emotion. Viktor rubbed his back and hushed him.

“It’ll be alright,” he assured. “Don’t fret.” Yuri wasn’t convinced and he snapped, breaking away from his parents and storming through the house, set off more than he would like to admit. Viktor and Yuuri exchanged looks and followed him. “Yuri,” Viktor started once his son had stormed into his room and the boy whipped around.

“I’m going to convince him that he should give me a chance,” he spat defiantly, and slammed his door in his parents’ faces. Yuuri didn’t bother getting mad, knowing the way his son translated fear into anger. He turned to Viktor, who had his face pressed into his hand, head dropped and shoulders pressed together.

“That could have gone better,” Yuuri sighed. Viktor didn’t answer for a long moment, but he eventually straightened and turned to Yuuri, smile tinged with sadness, but it was still a smile.

“And it could have gone worse. Yuuri,” he whispered, approaching his husband and clasping him around the waist. “He’s found a  _soulmate_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you weren't too bored or confused with the way I wrote this first chapter, but I thought it was necessary to have some backstory about Yuri and Viktuuri's life. Play safe out there, and I'll see you on the flip side!


End file.
